A Healing Circle
by Apprentice To The Dark Side
Summary: Scars never fade. A decade has passed since Ana left the Order. Now she has a job on a planet far, far away. But when Qui-Gon and she meet again on a "routine" mission, and this time with a young Obi-Wan in tow, how can this possibly end well? Qui/OC
1. Chapter 1: Mirrors

Mirrors were her favorite thing in the world, she decided.

There was a room in the palace filled with them, all of them frameless, bolted to the walls, hanging from the ceiling, even on the floors. Every square inch of walls which weren't filled with mirrors were full of open windows, letting in fresh air and sunlight. Each drop of liquid sunlight that entered the room danced and shone like the stars themselves, bouncing from mirror to mirror until the entire room was ablaze with light. But the best time of all was when the sun was setting, the two orange orbs sinking so majestically beneath the horizon, spreading billows of colors across the skies and stroked purple light into the room. And for one soft, lush moment during the eerily silent twilight, the entire room would be filled with violet light. She could sit and wait for hours, just watching all the colors twinkle and blink until the brightness was unbearable. Often, when she caught her reflection in one of them, she would frown a little and pull at her hair, trying to fix the plainness she saw reflected back at her. At almost thirty three years of age, La'Ana was smaller and more refined than most of the women she had met during her travels, and a good deal less pretty. Once, her hair had been in short, dangerous spikes which hung in her eyes while she trained, but now her dark curls plunged halfway down her back in a roiling, unruly mess. A thick fringe of dark hair fell in her bright green eyes, shrouding the usually brilliant green orbs with a curtain of dense black curls. She was plain, she knew that. But it didn't really matter, because her charges were children.

It had taken almost three years to work her way off Coruscant, to build up enough money to buy a ticket on a ship heading out of the metallic city. It had been three years of waitressing in scummy bars, trying to adopt a sassy, streetwise sense which was not easily attained, considering she had spent her entire life behind the neutral clay walls of the Temple. But eventually, she had scraped together the funds to find her way to this unique little planet, Daluba, home to a unique race of people called simply, the Daals. The Daals were different in one way: none of them matured past the age of thirteen. This created several drawbacks: One, all of them were constantly going through puberty, so cosmetics and mood-swings were frequent, with the former being necessary to mask the occasional pimple. It had been odd at first, taking orders from beings who looked exactly like small children, but were in fact much older than Ana herself. But over the years, she had gotten used to it, and was now the guardian of the Crown Princess herself, Zeijkk. They revered her in that odd, childish way that most people had when confronted with Jedi, and for some reason they didn't understand that she had left her training early.

She still couldn't meditate. Ana had tried to, thousands of times over the years, but each time it ended with the crippling pain in her left hip. Almost a decade ago, she had been injured by her former Master's sullen Padawan, Xanatos, and the injury had long since healed, leaving only a long silver scar on her hip. But for some reason, the wound had tampered with her Force-sensitivity, not allowing her to release her energies to the Force, keeping them all bottled inside her. The scar still twinged when she exercised strenuously, but it was only when she tried to let go of her physical pain and emotions did the pain render her useless. So she was reduced to a mere mortal, her usage of the Force limited to simplistic things that would awe any child, but cause any competent Jedi to shake his head and laugh quietly to themselves. She had given up her lightsaber ten years ago, of course, but she was more than passable with her hand-to-hand combat skill and she was still in relative shape, although she was positively fat compared to the iron-hard muscles she had obtained before she left the Order. Now she was truly slender, a mark of her good habits and good health, not of her physical exercise.

"Ana?" Called a young voice from the doorway. Ana turned, and saw the picturesque form of her young charge, Zeijkk, the Crown Princess. With long, thick, honey-colored curls and silver-green eyes, high cheekbones and full lips, the Princess was the epitome of a young girl. In Daals' years, she was twenty, but by humans standards she looked no more than twelve, with baby fat still plumping her cheeks. One blonde eyebrow arched as she saw her Guide rise slowly with a slight grimace tugging her mouth. "Ana, you were supposed to be at Morning Meal an hour ago." There was more than a distinctive pout in her voice, and she folded her arms.

"Forgive me, Princess," Ana said, massaging her hip and forcing a smile to her lips. "I wasn't particularly hungry, and I wanted to see the sunrise."

"What is it with you and your sunrises?" Zeijkk asked pettishly, following Ana out the door and into the wide, carpeted hallways. The planet had a low gravitational pull, so there was a thin, slippery electric shield over the floors, making sure that the royalty wouldn't slip on the polished marble. Where possible, thick, plush rugs covered the floors. Ana tugged her hair behind her ear thoughtfully, a little smile quirking her mouth.

"I watch them for ... sentimental reasons," Ana said. "I actually hate them, they come far too early for me, but I knew someone who loved them, so I watch them for his sake."

"Ah, and this would be your wonderful Jedi Master you refer so much to?" Zeijkk asked, a little smirk curving her mouth. Ana looked at her, knotting her brows, but the Princess merely stared smugly into the distance. "You talk in your sleep, and you've let slip once or twice that your Jedi Master was male," the Princess explained. "So, is he the one who enjoyed the sunsets?"

"Sunrises, actually," Ana murmured. "And yes, he is. He liked a lot of different things, actually."

"Did he like you?" Zeijkk asked, turning to face her Guide fully, cocking her head to the side and unknowingly painting herself in a cherubic light. She had that childish innocence about her face, but she was betrothed to be married, and therefore wasn't exactly innocent concerning love.

"Sometimes I like to pretend he did," Ana said to herself quietly, entering the elevation lift and thumbing a button. The glass doors slid shut with a soft hissing noise, and the sleek crystal bubble descended downwards slowly. "But I know better than that."

"Oh, a thwarted love affair," Zeijkk said smilingly, that infuriating smirk still pointing the corners of her mouth. "Would this have anything to do with the famous Jedi ideals?"

Ana said nothing, but Zeijkk noted the subtle tightening in her stance and the icy sheet of armor which dropped over her eyes. Silently, the older woman led her young Charge out into the hallway. Zeijkk filed this away for later and followed her, still smirking maddeningly.

* * *

><p><em>Thwack<em>!

The wooden baton struck out, sending the training droid skittering a few feet towards the ground, the electrical hum rising to a high-pitched, unnatural mechanical whine. The young boy backed up slightly, his bare feet dragging over the dirt floor, sweat beading his upper lip and cording down his temples. Brown hair, messily long in front, was clipped close in back to form a long, narrow Padawan braid over his left ear, and a blindfold wrapped twice around his head. His torso was bare, exposing tanned skin and light muscles stretching his skin taut. A dark line of hair disappeared into his waistband, the only sign of his maturity, for he was short and thin for his age, wiry but small. He danced to the left, and then hit out with the wooden club again, smashing it into the training droid. The whine cut out and the flashing red lights dimmed as the droid fell with a dull crunch to the floor. There was a pause, and then he tilted his chin backwards, almost imperceptibly, turning his face towards his Master, who was sitting some ways away on a wooden bench. "May I remove the blindfold, Master?" He called out.

"You may," His Master said, and the young boy tugged off his blindfold, letting it drape loosely in his fist as he looked at the training droid. The brutal club he had used was attached to his wrist with a loop of leather, and he twirled it once as he surveyed his handiwork. His Master, a large, tall, broad-chested man, opened his eyes and gifted his Padawan with a rare smile. "You did well, Obi-Wan."

Inwardly, the boy reveled in his Master's praise. Compliments from him were rarer than the finest jewels, and just as treasured whenever he received them. His Master, Qui-Gon Jinn, was a silent, meditative man whose big frame belied his gentle heart. Never had Obi-Wan seen so much compassion in a person, so much drive to help the less fortunate. It was a trait which both amazed and confused Obi-Wan, the thirsting drive to help anyone and everyone. But lately, it seemed as though the big Jedi was full of corrections and finding fault in everything with him, and as if by instinct, the genuine piece of praise was given to him. Qui-Gon got to his feet and tossed Obi-Wan's blue lightsaber to him and offered and even rarer smile. Obi-Wan caught it one-handedly, flicking it into activation and admiring the shimmering, humming length of his blade. There was power and beauty in this dangerous weapon; it was like loving an assassin – there was always the chance it could kill you if used improperly. His Master turned and tossed another droid into the air, programming it on a high difficulty level. Obi-Wan tucked the blindfold back around his eyes and waited for the fight to begin.

Watching his Padawan, Qui-Gon wondered why it had taken him this long to take on another Padawan. For seven years, he had tormented himself, reliving his life with Xanatos and Ana, replaying every conversation between them. The lines between their perfections and their imperfections began to blur, and the two Padawans were rapidly shifting into just one hateful memory in the back of his mind. The scars that laced his heart ran too deep to be probed, and he knew this – any mention of former Padawans always resulted in the hideous pain rocking his core. There was too much betrayal, too much distrust in former Padawans, and it had taken him seven years to allow time to do its magic. Now, he craved a fresh start, a new beginning. Obi-Wan was the symbol of leaving the past behind, he told himself.

So why was it so hard to train the boy?

He couldn't ask for a better Padawan. True, the boy was both prideful and reckless – but that went with the age. Obi-Wan was a fast learner, patient with children younger than he, eager to learn, and highly attuned to the Force. He was obedient to a flaw, following him around and savoring his words as though they were proverbs to be written in stone. In ways, this was both dangerous and flattering; one day, the boy would wake up and realize that Qui-Gon was just a man, a man with faults and flaws just like everyone else. But for now, he had a complacent, eager Padawan that he simply couldn't train. His scars ran too deep, the shadows of his past life too dark. Only once had Obi-Wan asked about his former Padawans, and Qui-Gon's face had been such the picture of a physical stab wound that the boy had quickly changed the subject. Qui-Gon was glad, because he couldn't even say her name aloud. But he thought it in his head every day, every time he went to meditate.

_Ana._

It didn't help that Clah'Diam was around him so much. They had grieved together, mourned her loss together as friends. Clah'Diam was now a Knight, with a rebellious young Padawan called Bruck Chun which was driving her to distraction. However, Qui-Gon couldn't imagine a better pairing; Clah'Diam's sweet disposition and patient teaching nature made her the perfect Master for the aggressive, hot-tempered Bruck. The two were on a mission together, goodness knows where, probably off arguing about something or other. Qui-Gon heard a distant smash, and he blinked, watching the training droid shudder to the ground. Arching an eyebrow, Qui-Gon stood. "Excellent," He said, and his Padawan learner removed his blindfold. "Come, Padawan, we have to freshen up before we depart."

"Yes, Master," Obi-Wan said, deactivating his lightsaber and snatching his tunic off the bench. "Where are we going, again?"

"Daluba."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Here it is! The second book! If you just clicked on this story out of curiosity, I strongly suggest you go back and read _A Broken Circle_ before you go any further. There will be a bunch of references to their training in later chapters, and you won't have any idea what's going on if you don't. To people who have been waiting for this book – and they are few and far between, believe me – here you you! I hope you enjoy, and please tell me what you think!_


	2. Chapter 2: Arrivals

People don't understand the life of a princess, Zeijkk thought as she stared at herself in the mirror.

Even the title irked her – _princess_. What a sallow, limp-wristed title. Only when she married her betrothed, Zusff, the Crown Prince of the Water Tribe, would she be given the title of Divine Queen. Now, _there_ was a title worth having! Divine Queen – once every hundred years, the Water Tribe and the Earth Tribe betrothed their firstborn son and daughter to each other at birth. And when the time came to rule, they would be crowned Divine Queen and King, with their desires and commands hailed has prophecies and law. It was a curious way to restore order, but it had worked very well over the millennia, resulting in mostly peaceful negotiations and stable living conditions. Of course, the betrothed couples were exposed to each other as frequently as possible, but since Zusff lived by the wild, untamed oceans many miles away, and Zeijkk resided in her glossy marble palace, the two had met a total of ten times over the course of their lives. She found her betrothed to be a fine young man, with good morals, but he was weak. Smart, intellectual, and brawny, but weak. He had no thirsting for power, not the way she did. He would do nothing but coo endearments to her whenever they talked, and refused to talk of politics, and religion, and anything of _depth_. So she wrote him off as an idiot and publically fawned over him, while internally she brooded. She looked at herself in her mirror, the trim edged with polished ebony. She had the face of a queen, she knew, but the title of a _princess_. Pah! What a despicable title. When she was Divine Queen, she would abolish the title altogether, and give them something a little more regal. Perhaps Young Councilor. Yes, that sounded strong.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a brisk, rapid knock on her door. "Enter," She said, still studying her reflection and going over titles in her head. But her eyes flicked to the doorway when she heard the door hiss shut. Standing just inside her room, those queer green eyes half-lowered respectfully and her dark eyebrows raised, stood La'Ana, her Guardian. She liked her Guardian, thought her to be capable and thorough, but she had too many secrets. Secrets were something Zeijkk feared, something only she could have. When you didn't know people's true intentions, the shadows clouded your thoughts and things could sneak up on you, assassinate you while you stood trembling. No, when she was Divine Queen, she would force every member of her cabinet to reveal their truest, darkest secrets, and if they didn't, she would find them out for herself. They would discover what_ true_ power was, _true_ fear. Ana turned her head to the side and the corner of her mouth tugged downwards.

Zeijkk was a smart child – too smart, in Ana's opinion. She had been with the Daal since childhood, almost raised the girl, but none of the Jedi morals and ethics seemed to stick to her. In everything she did, she wanted to do it again, and better, faster, stronger, deeper. Anything to be _better_ than anyone else. Ana hadn't seen a person so apt to staying to the Dark Side before, and privately thought that it would do everyone extreme good if someone would just give her a spanking. But she was the Crown Princess, and no one would lay a finger on her, of course. Ana quirked her mouth in a smile and approached her Charge. "Princess, you are not ready for your own gathering?" Ana said in mock surprise. "Really, Your Highness, you ought to know better."

The Crown Princess tossed her blonde curls over her shoulders and raised her eyebrows, tilting her childish face to the side and pouting. "I don't want to go," She said pettishly. "They're only _Jedi_, after all. The Council can welcome them, for all I care. And they don't _need_ to be here." She said, but followed Ana over to her closet, just the same.

"Now, Princess, you know the Jedi are here for your protection," Ana said, rummaging through the vast amount of satins and silks in her Charge's closet. A decade separated them; ten years and about a hundred miles of fabric and thousands of pounds of jewels. "Your father is a very forceful person, and he wanted to make sure you were not swept off by that...bandit."

The Princess snorted. "The Mockingbird isn't a bandit at all, just a stupid person who thinks stealing will give him power," She said.

"He kidnapped your friend, Aja, and held him hostage for six days," Ana reminded her quietly. Zeijkk curled her lip derisively.

"Aja has never been very smart," She said, and pointed to one of the dresses. "There. The silver one. We'll match, make it look like you're my older sister instead of my Guardian." Her tone was one of a magistrate conferring a great favor, and Ana accepted it with barely a ripple of facial expression. Inwardly, she wanted nothing more than to shake some respect into her, but kept it to herself. She loved the child, no matter how spoiled she was.

The silver dress was lacy and shiny, and a slippery pearl instead of Ana's charcoal, but the gesture was what counted. Ana turned away while the girl changed – with the typical lack of modesty that all children somehow possess, she stripped to her underwear and proceeded to wander about the room, musing to her Guardian and herself. "But the Mockingbird could stand to be a little smarter, too," Zeijkk said, touching the sleek mother-of-pearl handles on her hairbrushes. "I mean, stripping carriages and caravans of their loot is one thing, but holding a boy hostage for no reason whatsoever? That's just stupid."

"Perhaps he had a greater reason," Ana said, and then began folding the clothes the Princess had left in a puddle on the floor. "Perhaps we don't know people's true intentions until we truly know them."

"And we can never know a person truly, yes, yes, I know," Zeijkk said with a bite of impatience in her voice. "More of your Jedi wisdom. You've said it before."

"Have I?" Ana said demurely, hanging Zeijkk's clothes in her closet. "I don't remember."

"You said it once before, I believe," Zeijkk said sourly, finally pulling the silver dress over her head. "And I despise being told things twice."

Ana held her out at arm's length and surveyed her. The dress was modest and silky, pretty and, as with most of the fashionable clothing on Daluba, accented with rhinestones. Anything that glittered or shone was pasted onto their clothing, and they took as much delight in mining it from the ground as they did in wearing it. The dress matched Zeijkk's eyes perfectly, making them seem even more wintery and icy, despite her childish face and height. Her long, glossy golden curls bounced around her cherubic cheeks, and Ana smiled at her. "I know you do. And you look lovely, Princess." She said softly.

Zeijkk shook off the compliment. "Come on, La'Ana. Let's go meet these Jedi who are supposed to protect me from this..._phantom_."

* * *

><p>The dining hall in the palace had been decked out for the occasion, with crystal and silver on the tables polished to a high sheen. The multiple chandeliers in the room sparkled in the light, and guests were already beginning to file inside. A few of the women were clutching Pookas, which were the fashionable new pet these days. Privately, Ana thought they looked like pink fluffy footstools, but she wasn't allowed to say anything more, so she kept it to herself. Guardians ate at a separate table, away from their Charges, and Ana bid farewell to Zeijkk when they reached the High Table. Zeijkk's father, a fat old man – who looked like a pudgy thirteen year old – greeted his daughter warmly and kissed both cheeks. A boy with messy blonde hair and alert green eyes was sitting, poised and tense, at the edge of the table. He was Aja, Zeijkk's friend, but considering he was five years younger than she, the two didn't talk much these days. Ana smoothed her skirt over her legs and sat quietly at the table, her eyes fastened on her young Charge. Like most Guardians, she had developed an attachment that was unusually strong for most people – but not at all strong for Ana, who tended to be as mistrustful as a scalded cat for the first few months, and then turned into a leg-clinger.<p>

"Pardon, Guardian La'Ana, but are you all right?" Came a voice near her elbow. She didn't jump or betray any sign of alarm, but inwardly she kicked herself for allowing someone to sneak up on her. Her reflexes were abnormally fast for everyday people, but for a Jedi they were rather slow. She suspected this stemmed from her weak connection to the Living Force. Turning, she saw the sharp, angular face of Guardian Lhar, an older man who was sly but seemed nice enough to Ana. There was a lingering mistrust about him, though – but that was probably because she didn't know him very well. She forced a smile and reflexively pushed her fingers against her injured hip.

"Perfectly fine, thank you, Lhar," She said. "Which Jedi are coming to protect my Charge, do you know?"

His silver brows drew together and he shrugged. "They had some very unusual names, that's all I know," He said. "Silly, it seemed to me. And there's supposed to be a trainee, which I found very alarming. I don't think they ought to bring people who don't know what they're doing on important missions, don't you think so?" He said. He, like most Guardians, wanted to hear a political, safe answer from Ana, which would most likely be agreement. But her teeth flashed in a wolverine smile that had just a hint too much condescension in it.

"Jedi Knights are often assigned Padawans to instruct and mentor," She said, raising a flute of nonalcoholic liquid to her lips and sipping it lightly. "How better to learn than to bring them into the real world?"

There was too much bitterness in the man's eyes, but Ana hid her smug, satisfied smile in her drink. She liked riling the other Guardians – most of them were so afraid to speak their mind they forgot how to actually think for themselves. Ten years hadn't corrupted Ana yet, and she supposed one more dinner party with a bunch of these pompous old farts wouldn't budge her. "Indeed," Lhar said, a bit too tightly. Ana downed the rest of her drink and the next few moments passed in uncomfortable silence as the last of the guests filed in. The Jedi pair would be the guests of honor, of course, so they would arrive last and be seated at the High Table with the King and Queen.

The noise in the room had rose to an almost comfortable drone when the doors banged open, startling everyone into silence. Two lone figures strode efficiently down the center of the room, and they were so quick that they were halfway to the High Table before people gathered their wits to applaud. The taller of the pair turned and waved his hand once, dipping his head as if to silence the crowd, and it did, eerily and completely. The King stood – his large girth stretching through the elasticity of his tunic – and smiled at the pair. "Welcome, Jedi! You have our most heartfelt felicitations and cheerful salutations from all of Daluba! Please, join me and my family at the High Table, to dine and to discuss business."

The next words made Ana turn dead white.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I am Jedi Knight Qui-Gon Jinn, and this is my Padawan, Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Her breath wouldn't rise to her throat; her heart felt stuck in her chest, startled into stillness.

"Well, you are very welcome, Master Jinn," the King said cheerfully, ignoring his Padawan completely. "Allow me to introduce my daughter, Crown Princess Zeijkk, and her Guardian, La'Ana Walker."

The older Jedi turned to fast Ana didn't even have time to rise. She didn't even think she _could_ rise – her whole body was encased in ice. The two locked eyes, and her heart, which hadn't even begun beating again, squeezed tightly. Oh, Force, those eyes...Those rich smoky discs, dark cerulean smoked with silver, that broad chest and wide shoulders, limbs edged with steel muscles. His regal, noble profile, crooked though it was, and those eyes, riveted her, kept the breath from her body. Sith, he was here, in front of her, and every scar she thought had melted away suddenly tore back into her heart, searing and branding her soul with claws of malice and cruelty.

The boy next to him – Sith, he had taken another Padawan? And he brought him here? The boy was young, so very young, so freshly painted with trust and innocence which would be just shorn from him as life roughened his years. He bowed respectfully, and he frightened her, terrified her even, in that simple motion. Qui-Gon had taken on another Padawan, and he had moved on, leaving her lost in a tormented whirlwind of unraveled emotions. Had he lied to her, then? When he said that he loved her, did he mean temporarily? He had betrayed her, killed her, by taking on another Padawan. She was still in mourning from losing Wathearu and Qui-Gon – how could he go through three Padawans? Was it nothing more than a game to him? Did he not have any emotional attachment whatsoever? He had slain her as easily as pulling a knife across her throat by bringing a new Padawan here, like a child showing off a toy to another.

His large, calloused hands folded into his sleeves and he bowed slightly, never taking his eyes from hers, and she saw he was just as shocked and frightened and scarred as she was at that moment. In his deep, rumbling, baritone voice, that voice which rippled with silk around the growl which naturally tinged his tones, he said nine words which rocked her world back on its axis.

"How very lovely to make your acquaintance, La'Ana Walker."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Okay! Before you even review and tell me what you think, you *WILL* go look at this amazing, kick-butt fanarts drawn by that talented artist Syrtis. (Uses Jedi mind trick) The links are on my profile, so be sure to go there straight away and drool over them, just like I did. Oh, and then you *WILL* come back and tell me what you think of this chapter (Uses Jedi mind trick again). xD And no, Ana's name change is not a mistake. It'll be explained later. _

_Questions: Who do you think the Mockingbird is? Who do you think will be more receptive of Ana; Qui-Gon, or Obi-Wan? Do you think Lhan is a sleaze or a jerk? xD _


	3. Chapter 3: Killing Me

He had thought he could handle seeing her again, but just looking at that familiar face and ink black hair made pain slice through him. It went deeper than emotional, the pain was almost physical – his chest constricted and his torso ached with the strain of holding his breath. Was she real? An illusion? But he saw how frightened and shocked she was, those forest green eyes wide and startled, rooted to her chair with her knuckles going white as she gripped the edges of her seat. All at once, the pain grew dizzyingly intense, and he thought his body would implode just by looking at her, just by seeing those full cheeks and pouting lips, those large green eyes flecked with gold. Force, it still hurt, and for an instant his vision blurred and he recalled with diamond-edged clarity the day she had left, without turning back once. All over again he felt the satin of her lips on his, those elegant fingers shaking as she laid truth her feelings. He heard her voice, thick with emotion and raw with hurt, as she revealed the truth about Wathearu, remembered the hurtful shrieks she had made as she thrashed through her nightmares. He remembered holding her, that fragile, slender body close to his as they wept together, cried because their scars aligned and their circles completed each other. And then, just as suddenly, his training snapped into into place, and he bowed respectfully. "How very lovely to make your acquaintance, La'Ana Walker," He said, assured to hear that his voice didn't shake or betray his scarred emotions just teeming beneath the surface.

Obi-Wan felt the Force sensitivity from this woman, and was surprised. She was connected to the Force, he could feel it – and she was as white as a sheet. He bowed respectfully to her, and falteringly she rose from her chair, bowing tremblingly. "Master Jinn, Padawan Kenobi," She said softly, her lips trembling. Obi-Wan observed with traditional Jedi eyes that she looked perhaps late twenties, and she favored her left leg slightly as she stood. She wasn't exactly _pretty_ – but there was a girlish innocence that lingered in her looks, with the young cheeks and rosebud lips. But he didn't understand the impact she was having on his Master – he had felt the black, solid shock emanating from his Master when they had first locked eyes, but now his face was as unfathomable and stony as it usually was. He would have like to speak with the woman, to see if she had any previous connection with his Master – although judging by their looks, they had – but the High King was already pushing them up to the table, putting them in places of honor. He was talking all the while, and soon the lush din of babble fell over the crowd, musings and murmurs tinkling together.

The Crown Princess eyed the two Jedi with a highly interested eye. The older one was ruggedly handsome, with gruff, weather-beaten look to him which seemed very masculine and _very_ handsome. The other one, the younger one, was perhaps fifteen years old – but she had a poor eye for age, being a Daal – and far cuter. He had spiked brown hair, cut quite short, with a Padawan braid in back hanging over his left ear, and a wiry, lean stance. For some reason, the older one seemed uneasy and scanning the room, but the younger one seemed perfectly at ease. Zeijkk caught the boy's eye over the rim of her goblet and she smiled approvingly. Oh, yes, these Jedi would do _wonderfully_. She had been resistant to the idea of Jedi coming to the planet at all, but when she realized that their presence here could help her scheme, she decided they would be useful. Very useful indeed. She took a dainty sip of her drink and pushed back a golden curl from her eyes.

"As I'm sure you know, we've been having some real problems with a certain bandit," The High King was saying, already scarfing down food as though it would be outlawed tomorrow. Obi-Wan took a polite bite of his food and was surprised at it's taste – rich, savory and complex, with flirting hints of pepper laced throughout. Qui-Gon looked down at the charred _ethearu_ steak and almost felt nauseated; He remembered her cooking a similar dish to this, her small feet bare, hair still wet from the shower, her hurt still fresh as she sliced and baked. Qui-Gon nodded, forcing himself to pay attention to what the king was saying.

"He's come out publically and announced that he'll do all he can to stop my baby's wedding," The King said, glancing down the table at the beautiful girl who was his daughter. "He kidnapped a friend of hers, to intimidate her! He'll stop at nothing to destroy Zeijkk's special day, and I won't have it!" He said, taking a ferocious bite of food.

"Does this bandit have a name, a team, a hideout?" Qui-Gon asked, taking a reluctant bite of his food. He was relieved to taste that it was nothing like the dish Ana had prepared so many years ago. The King swigged his drink and belched once, then patted his belly.

"He goes by the name of Mockingbird," the King said, snorting, "and he's been rumored to live on the southern slopes. Which is ridiculous, of course," He added as an afterthought.

"Why is that, Your Highness?" Qui-Gon asked respectfully, trying vainly to catch another glimpse of Ana while still appearing to be listening to the King.

"Because the southern slopes are filled with dangerous animals and wild creatures," the King said primly. "He'd be eaten within minutes."

"When is the wedding supposed to be?" Qui-Gon asked, finally seeing Ana lean back in her chair with a stupefied look on her face. She ran a hand through her curls and buried her face in her hands, an action which was brutally familiar to him. He looked away quickly.

"Two months from now," the High King answered, taking a savage bite of his meat. "I want to make sure that my little girl is protected at all times. Her Guardian is wonderful – an ex-Jedi, you know – but she's handicapped, and I wanted to make sure she's well protected."

"Handicapped?" Qui-Gon said, more to himself than to the king. "How so?"

"Mmph. Injured in a lightsaber battle is what she told Zeijkk, but I doubt it," He said with a grunt. "She's a strange one, that woman." He shook his head, making his youthful brown curls toss. "Spends all her time teaching Zeijkk how to fight instead of how to embroider. Totally unconventional, but she's worth it." He laughed a little, more of a series of guttural chokes than an actual laugh. "Spends most of her time down in the kitchens cooking, if she's not in the arena telling Zeijkk how to fly a fighter-plane. Once she broke a servant's nose – by accident, she says – but she's a wildcat and no mistake."

_Oh, yes. That's my Ana._

* * *

><p>She sat on the balcony, her heart hammering, palms damp. The tears were trying to come, but she swallowed them back with a herculean effort; she wouldn't allow herself to cry. Even after all these years, she still hated to cry, even to herself, and any display of weakness was promptly squashed. Because, after everything was done, she still had her pride, didn't she? She might not have anything else, but she clung to this emotion like glue. Seeing him again tore her open, ripped her apart just by looking at those deep cerulean eyes. Oh, how many times had she told herself that she was over him? How many times had she assured herself that she was serenely independent, that Qui-Gon was a youthful hormone rampage, that things like true love didn't exist. But just seeing him again, not even talking with him, not even close enough to inhale his musky scent, had ravaged her. And this, <em>this <em>was love. She knew what this was, knew the emotion she had tamped down so successfully for the past decade. This was love, this was fireworks, this was that searing, scorching feeling which let her know _exactly_ what she felt.

And kriff, did it hurt.

She just sat there, quelling her feelings with draughts of processed, filtered air, the cool air chasing away the smoky scent of meat and perfume filling the ballroom. She had escaped as soon as humanely possible, waiting respectfully until the King had made his speech and dismissed everyone, then bolted out like a hare from a fox. She could still hear the chatter of children laughing and exchanging jokes as they put on their furs and their sequined wraps, leaving with their dates and going back home for some smooching. Zeijkk was probably sizing up the two Jedi as neatly as you please, and wondering why her Guardian had left so quickly. Ana rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, pushing back the wave of bitter, stinging tears which nipped at her eyes. A dark sheet of unruly curls fell around her eyes like a curtain, and she clamped her lower lip between her teeth to inflict some pain, to keep the tears away. He had a Padawan, a good looking little boy of perhaps thirteen or fourteen, with brown hair and obedient brown eyes. He clung to the side of Qui-Gon, and he had that admiring look in his eye which told Ana how deep his respect was for his Master. _He's everything I wasn't,_ Ana thought to herself dully. _Probably the best Padawan known to the Jedi_.

"Ana?"

Force, that voice. Deep, rumbling, a rich baritone wrapped with velvet, full of inflections and shades, almost as complex as his personality. That voice was the only voice in the world she could hear with perfect clarity, detect all the little nuances and differences, but today she wished she couldn't. Because he was so hurt, so raw, she could feel it humming in the Force, that betrayal thicker than fog clouding his words. Why was he seeking her out? She wanted nothing more than to fling herself off the balcony and have her end come quickly, but she couldn't make herself move. She heard his light footfalls – deceptively light, considering he was such a big man – and then he stood off to her right, his broad body blocking out the moon in her peripheral vision. His arms were folded, and she wondered for the second time why he had sought her out. Why did he even want to have this conversation? It would be better for both of them if she hadn't even existed.

"Your hair..." He said softly, and he sat down next to her, their knees almost touching. Fixedly, Ana kept her gaze on the floor. She didn't trust herself to look up, wasn't certain if her mask was in place. The last person in the world she wanted to have see her scars was Qui-Gon. Because his scars ran deeper than hers, and she didn't want to look in those eyes and see a reflection of her own hurts back at herself. "You grew it out," He said, and he made contact with her, his calloused fingers pushing her hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. The gesture was so natural and automatic that he didn't even know he had done it until she looked up at him, those deep green eyes glossy with tears.

"Ten years and that's what you say?" She said, her voice full of bitterness. "You take on another Padawan, arrive at my home, see me for the first time in almost a decade, and the only thing you can says is 'Your hair is longer'?" She looked up at him then, and she saw he was taken aback at her. He was also frighteningly angry at the tone in her voice, she could see it in his eyes, but he was keeping himself in check. Barely.

"Why do you object to Obi-Wan?" He asked, setting his teeth. "He's a loyal boy, and someday he will make a great Jedi."

"Oh, yes, Obi-Wan the Loyal and Powerful," Ana sneered, her tears spilling down her cheeks. "Taught by none other than the wise and great Qui-Gon Jinn, Master of Everything." Now she was deliberately trying to provoke him, allowing her anger to get the better of her, and he tried to relax the fist his hand had made.

"Cheeky devil might be closer to the mark," He said softly, and the memory hit her so hard she actually flinched.

_That bright, coppery terror blooming in her mouth, the feeling of weightlessness as she flung herself off the diving platform..._

_"What are you doing?"_

_"I am trying to get you to trust me."_

_The terror was back as she looked down at the floor, so hard and unyielding..._

"I'm sorry," She rasped. Her voice was broken and cowed, nothing like the rebellious tone she had used just moments ago. "Qui-Gon, there was no other choice." She said, and finally met his gaze squarely, looking at him pleadingly. Those eyes, kriff, those eyes could make him do anything. Large green orbs, fringed with black lashes, slender brows curving over the delicate ridge of her eyes. "It was the only option," She said, almost in a whisper.

"I could have made it work," He said, and she snorted. "_We_ could have made it work, Ana. Both of us. I don't know how, but if I had known how you felt earlier..."

"Even I didn't know how I felt!" Ana retorted, getting to her feet to pace restlessly. "I was a child, a stupid girl with a head full of fairy tales. I thought I loved you. I don't know what I thought."

"And now?" He asked, and was surprised at the fear he felt coiling in his stomach. He feared her answer as he might fear an adversary. She looked at him, her chest rising and falling as she struggled to breathe through the lump in her throat, her cheeks glistening with tears.

"And now I love you more than ever," She said, the words a mere breath. "And that's why its dangerous. That's why we can't do this, Qui-Gon. We couldn't do it ten years ago and we can't do it now."

"Why not?" He said, and pounced to his feet with the agility and ferocity of a young cougar. He was so tall, so broad and lean, and she had to tilt her chin back to look up at him. Those smoky cerulean eyes were alive with energy, and she shook her head helplessly.

"Because I don't want you temporarily!" She shouted, her voice cracking. "You're a Jedi, and you can't form attachments! I don't want you for a day or a month or a year, I want you for the rest of my life." Her voice choked up and she couldn't go on. "I don't want you for however long the Council says we can have," She said, her voice lower, broken, huddled as a beaten child might cower in a corner. She stood on tiptoe and kissed his bearded cheek, her soft lips brushing against his whiskers. "I want you forever, Qui-Gon, and I can't have that. If I can't have that, I can't have _you_. Please, Qui-Gon, please. I'm begging you. Take your Padawan and go somewhere else, somewhere where I don't know where you are. Because every time I see you, it kills me." She was openly sobbing now, and her whole body was shaking. "It's killing me, Qui-Gon. Please, go."

He watched, his body aching and his scars throbbing, as she left the balcony, down into the shadows and the darkness.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Please review, and tell me what you think! Syrtis has made more incredible fanart, and I bow before her amazing awesomeness! Again, check out my profile for the link to her latest fanart. xD _

_Questions: How will Obi-Wan react when he finds out about Qui-Gon and Ana? What is Zeijkk's plan? Can Qui-Gon and Ana actually have a happy ending? _


	4. Chapter 4: Incidents and Disdain

_Thwack!_

The wooden stick in his hand was solid, and the connection it made between the polished wood and the training dummy sent spikes of pain up his arm. His feet danced to the left, and he jabbed the butt of his staff again at the training dummy. There were no lightsaber resistant dummies around to practice on, and his Master had been brooding too much to tell him where the training droids were kept. Obi-Wan flicked a concerned glance at his Master, who was seated on a bench, his chin in his hands, either meditating or simply staring into space. He had been acting strangely all of last evening and into this morning – he said little, and what he said was brusque and taut with unresolved tension. It had _something_ to do with that black-haired woman – Ana – Obi-Wan could tell. At breakfast (or Morning Meal, as the Daals called it), there had been a stiff, frosty exchange between them, and Ana's voice had been hurt and raw. Obi-Wan wondered if Zeijkk was that cruel of a Charge, or the woman had something else tugging at her spirits. Whatever was troubling them, they were interconnected, and Obi-Wan was determined to find out how they knew each other. He needed to talk to Ana, the sooner the better.

"Master?" Obi-Wan called out, and Qui-Gon started. He had been completely enveloped in his own thoughts, and he cursed himself for this outward display of inattentiveness; he should be training his Padawan, not mulling over past mistakes and stirring up the pains of old scars. He glanced up, and then ran his hands over his cheeks, trying to wake himself up.

"Yes, Obi-Wan?" Qui-Gon answered, swiftly getting to his feet and picking up Obi-Wan's outer robe. Obi-Wan shrugged himself into the robe and offered a funny little grin which was one of his trademarks – a slanted, halfway grin which made him seem like a small, curious cat.

"What are our plans for the day, Master? If I have your permission, I would like to explore the palace and perhaps find out some gossip about this Mockingbird." Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon nodded once, slowly, his dark blue eyes shaking off the gauzy remnants of his old memories, seeming fresh and interested in his mission for the first time in hours. "Indeed. You have my permission, but keep your mind open and your comlink handy. I am going to take a speeder and investigate these Northern Slopes. Stay near the Guardians, and try not to get into any trouble."

"I always try," Obi-Wan said calmly, his mischief streak lighting up in his eyes. "But I somehow always fail. I must practice harder at getting into trouble."

"I would prefer you showing _other_ people how to get out of trouble," Qui-Gon said dryly. "Instead of me showing you how to do it."

"Doesn't that involve getting people trouble in the first place?" Obi-Wan countered, looking up at his Master with a delighted gleam in his eyes.

"In that case, wait for my supervision," Qui-Gon said, a rare smile tugging at his lips, "But today, you shall avoid trouble at all costs and simply stick to getting information. All right?" Qui-Gon said, and then patted Obi-Wan on the back in a display of affection which warmed Obi-Wan's heart. "May the Force be with you, Padawan."

Obi-Wan waited until his Master's long, confident strides had carried him around the corner, and then he promptly turned around and followed the path back up to the training grounds. He wasn't lying to his Master – he _did_ want to gather information about the Mockingbird, but he wanted to talk to Ana first. He crossed the training arena and entered a long, cool hallway carpeted with purple rugs. His footsteps silent and wary, he padded down the hallway until it joined another larger corridor, this one containing a steady stream of servants and chattels passing back and forth, carrying items and suchlike for dignitaries. His quick eyes scanned the crowds, but he saw nobody he recognized, and he then he reached out to the Force, probing the corridor for anyone with Force-sensitivity. There was something, like a pull of warm water, but farther up, and Obi-Wan quickly found an elevator to take him to the next level. Just before he entered, however, he saw a boy with tousled blonde hair and alert green eyes step in front of him.

"Only Guardians and their Charges are allowed up there," The boy said, frowning seriously. "And I do not think you are a Guardian or a Charge."

"No, I am one of the visiting Jedi," Obi-Wan said, allowing a bit of Force-suggestion to creep into his tones. "I need to speak with the Crown Princess Zeijkk about the Mockingbird."

The blonde boy appeared to struggle with himself for a moment, and then said, "She's not up there, anyway. Zeijkk never stays in her room any more." The boy said, and then eyed him curiously. "So you're a Jedi?" He asked interestedly.

"Yes, I am," Obi-Wan said, and bowed politely. "Padawan Obi-Wan, at your service. Could you tell me where I might find Zeijkk and her Guardian, Ana?"

The blonde boy curled his lip. "Huh. They're probably in the library. I can show you, if you like." He shrugged tersely, and began leading Obi-Wan down the opposite hallway. "Guardian Ana is always trying to make Zeijkk learn new scrolls and languages."

"It doesn't sound like a bad thing," Obi-Wan said, reaching out a tentative probe into the boy's mind. To his surprise, he felt jealousy simmering beneath the blonde-haired boy's cold indifference. "But what does Zeijkk think?"

"I don't know," The boy said tightly, sounding frustrated and annoyed. "I don't know what she thinks anymore. She won't talk to me." He then glanced at Obi-Wan, as if remembering whom he was speaking to, and changed the subject. "I'm Aja, a friend of the Princess's. I can tell you a few things about the Mockingbird, if you wish."

Obi-Wan was interested. Besides, he could hear a few things about the Mockingbird on their way to the library, and despite his thirst for knowing how Ana knew Qui-Gon, he wanted to complete this mission as well. With the Mockingbird out of the way, this mission would be bordering on boring for the remainder of the trip. "The High King mentioned last night that you were actually kidnapped by the Mockingbird," Obi-Wan probed delicately. Aja tensed, his straight posture condensing until he seemed much smaller than he actually was.

"Not really," He said, his voice thin. "It was a misunderstanding. The Mockingbird doesn't want to hurt anyone. He told me. He just wanted to kidnap me to make a point."

"Oh?" Obi-Wan said in an offhand way. "What does the Mockingbird look like?" He inquired.

"I don't know. He wears a cowl all the time," Aja said, a bit too quickly. "Here's the library. Zeijkk and her Guardian will probably be inside." He gestured at the door. "Shall I see you at lunch, then?" He asked. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows and offered his slanted, catlike grin.

"Of course. I wish to ask a few more questions about this Mockingbird, and I believe my Master will want to as well," Obi-Wan said, and pushed open the library door.

It was nothing like the library in the Jedi Temple, where learning and scrolls had been the main focus. Instead of sagging, dusty shelves and thick, ancient tomes, there were bright bars of warm sunlight pouring through crescent shaped windows. A still pool, disturbed only by the constant rippling of a fountain in the very center, dominated the room, and Obi-Wan noted the brilliant display of fish which swam lazily about in the bottom, their bright colors accenting the calm water perfectly. Thick couches and divans were grouped in sections of twos and threes, all covered with satin pillows and a few covered with blankets. There were books, yes, but there seemed to be more holo-files than scrolls, and there were several screens around the room for easy viewing. Leafy green plants, contained by rustic terra cotta containers, encircled the room. The whole place had a lush, tropical feel, instead of a serious place of learning. He spotted the Crown Princess first – it was almost impossible not to notice her, what with her beautiful golden hair and silver-green eyes. She was dressed in an elegant gown of pale purple, long sleeves looping over her thumb and the neckline sliding off her shoulders. It looked odd, and almost comical, to see a girl looking his own age wearing something like that, but he had to remind himself that they were all adults. Still, the resulting image was slightly disturbing.

Dressed in a far less noticeable outfit, was her Guardian, Ana Walker. Her tunic was beige and plain, while her leggings were dark brown and loose, secured at the waist by a fine belt. Her long dark hair had been pulled behind her in a braid, falling down her back in a thick rope, and Obi-Wan noticed there was a slender walking cane next to her. An expression of mild discomfort was creasing Ana's face, and her hand was flexing soothingly over her left hip, massaging it as she tried to explain the finer points of Ryl to an unreceptive Obi-Wan. As soon as he was spotted, Zeijkk sat up straighter and smiled becomingly. "Ah! Padawan!" She cried out, in a far louder tone than would have been permitted in any other library. However, seeing as Obi-Wan didn't actually see any other patrons around to disturb, he felt relaxed enough to greet her in the same tone of voice.

"Your Highness, how nice to make your formal acquaintance," Obi-Wan said, and glanced at the seat next to them. "May I sit?" He asked respectfully. Zeijkk beamed and patted the seat next to her, and Obi-Wan took it, sitting a good distance away. He looked up and saw the pained expression on Ana's face melt into one of distaste and subtle loathing.

Inwardly, Ana was fuming. She knew she had no right to, that she was being petty, selfish, and that her actions were unwarranted and her emotions were gaining control. She knew that she had no right to stake out Qui-Gon as her personal Master, seeing as she had deserted him almost a decade ago and hadn't even looked back or made contact with him. She knew all these things, and didn't care in the slightest. In a heroic effort to calm her temper, Ana dug her finger into her hip with unnecessary force and said between tight jaws, "Pardon, Padawan Kenobi, but the Princess and I do not wish to be disturbed. We are having a lesson on Ryl at the moment, and it is proving very difficult."

Zeijkk waved a hand imperiously at her Guardian. "Oh, shush, you old stick in the mud," Zeijkk said, her lips tightening. "The Jedi can talk all they want. Ryl is a silly language, anyway." She turned her bright green-silver eyes on Obi-Wan and smiled again. "You wish to question me about the Mockingbird, is that it?"

"Yes, your Majesty," Obi-Wan said, with an imperceptible look at Ana. He could feel ripples of jealousy coming off the woman, and he couldn't understand it. Her emotions were jumbled and hard to pick apart, and he wasn't confident enough to carry on a conversation and untwist the woman's thoughts. "Has he ever threatened you personally, Princess? About the wedding?" He asked, trying to ignore the death-glare Ana was giving him.

"Oh, of course," Zeijkk said, twining a long curl of blonde hair around her finger prettily. "I'm not frightened, though," She reflected dispassionately. "The Mockingbird is just someone who threatens and threatens and never does anything. I'm not worried about the wedding – after all, nothing can stop true love." She gifted Obi-Wan with a bright, sunny smile which exposed plenty of teeth but no heart.

"I see," Obi-Wan said, "And what of your friend Aja? Wasn't he kidnapped by this Mockingbird?"

"_No_," Zeijkk snapped tightly, "but it _was_ through his own stupidity. He almost _threw_ himself at the Mockingbird, trying to get captured." Zeijkk said, but then recovered quickly. "Aja has always been a ... _creative_ little boy. He went exploring through the old ruins on the foothills of the Northern Slopes and apparently bumped into the Mockingbird. Nothing else. They talked, and he came back after a few hours. He won't tell anyone what he said, though, except that the Mockingbird wants to stop the wedding but doesn't want to hurt me." She flicked the curl of hair over her shoulder.

"That's enough," Ana said, getting to her feet. For a split second, a dart of pain flickered up her hip, and her anger seared hotly against Obi-Wan. _Am I stooping this low_? She thought to herself. _I am jealous of a young child. Grow up, Ana!_ She chided herself. She supported herself lightly with her walking stick, and gestured to Zeijkk. "Come, Princess, we really must be getting your Language Arts done, or your mother shall be after me again," She said, sheparding her Charge out the door. "And, Padawan Kenobi?" She asked, turning slightly, her green eyes cold.

"Yes, Miss Walker?" Obi-Wan asked, trying to unravel the jealousy which was twisting through the Force.

"Tell your Master to conduct this mission as quickly as possible. I don't want any Jedi hanging around this planet longer than they should be." Ana said icily. Obi-Wan got to his feet in a flash.

"Actually, I wished to speak with you about my Master," He said, his eyes focused intently on Ana's reaction. "Master Qui-Gon Jinn seems to know you."

"He his mistaken," Ana said coldly. "Your Master and I have never met."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Gah. Never read Eragon Sporkings just before you go to write a chapter. Now I'm second guessing all of my sentences. And WOW! Only one review! Seriously, guys, I need feedback! Even if you leave me a negative review! You will get showered with kisses and hugs!_

_Questions: Will Obi-Wan and Ana ever come to a reconciliation? What is Zeijkk planning to do with the Jedi? What will happen when Obi-Wan finds out about Ana and Qui-Gon's relationship all those years ago?_


	5. Chapter 5: The Mockingbird

Qui-Gon cut off the engine to the speeder and guided it carefully behind a craggy gray boulder, settling it on a bed of air. The fine, steady mist which had been dampening his beard since he had left the palace had thickened to a soft rain, making everything slippery and damp. The southern slopes were steep, the landscape carved into ridges and grooves by the erosion, and had large boulders dotting the surface. Above him, gray buntings of clouds shrouded the sun away from its natural berth, and the gritty earth beneath his supple leather boots was muddy and hard to get a grip on. Between the large, rain-slicked boulders, there was a ribbon or two of fresh green grass which grew hardily in the rocky soil, the stout blades pressed flat from the pressure of the rain. He exerted almost no effort to strengthen his connection to the Force, sharpening his senses and aiding his footholds in the slippery mountainside. It was tempting to merely sit here and attempt to meditate, because there was an unbelievable amount of emotions he had to untangle and decipher, but the mission was his first priority. His training had him well instructed – emotions were not to get in the way of duty. The mission came first, then Obi-Wan, then others, then himself, and then – finally – his emotions. As for now, he needed to discover the hideout of this bandit, the Mockingbird. As the climb got steeper, he began using his hands to haul himself on ledges and over jutting shelves of rock, following the Force. He was getting an insistent tugging to work his way towards the top of the slope.

There was a high-pitched, rasping snarl to his left, and he froze.

Slowly, he turned, taking great care to seem surprised, and his gaze settled on a queer looking creature. It was long and sleek, roughly the size of a large dog, and built with sleek, streamlined edges. Tiny, iridescent scales overlapped and created a bright multicolored hide which caught the dim light, despite the dreariness of the surroundings. A pair of weird, shifting eyes the color of a new moon regarded him cautiously, and curved claws clicked for purchase on the wet rock it was standing on. It seemed to be an aquatic animal – it had a thick, rudder-like tail, narrow nostrils, and webbing between its long, agile toes. Yet it moved with agility and dexterity on land, and it seemed lethally dangerous. It snarled again, the high, grating sound rippling the shiny muzzle and revealing double rows of tiny, sharp, white teeth. For a moment, neither of them moved, and then Qui-Gon sent out a tentative Force suggestion, reassuring the beast that it would not be hurt. It hissed, much like a cornered snake, and snapped its wiry jaws abruptly, sinewy muscles going taut. Evidently, the creature was not leaving without a fight. It took another, much stronger, Force suggestion to convince the creature to leave the rock and scamper away. It did so very reluctantly, hissing a good many times and baring its gleaming white teeth behind it. Slowly, the Jedi Knight followed the bizarre looking creature, cresting the slope a good deal slower and with less gracefulness than the light, streamlined animal. After getting his robes quite muddy and when he was cold to the bone, he was at the top of the slope and had a magnificent view of the surrounding countryside.

The country looked lush from this far up – a veil of green shaded with charcoal gray rock. Clouds hung low and swollen, seemingly close enough to touch, edges sharply defined by the water they carried. Nearby, a dark pond was fed by a sluggish, choked gray stream, and there appeared to be an entire colony of those strange animals there. It must have been their nesting season, for there seemed to be a lot of pups swimming in the pond, burrowing in the mud and splashing each other with long tails. The mothers were built wider and thicker than the males, who were slender and sleek, and had flippers for back feet. They seemed to be a highly active race, and it did not take much for Qui-Gon to realize they were beautiful. Flashing, sparkling, jeweled creatures nesting and building their lives in the dreary pond, their slick rainbow hides bright with water.

"Beautiful, aren't they, Master Jinn?"

Qui-Gon felt the presence even before they had spoke, but the abruptness of the sensation took him aback. How the person behind him had managed to appear to suddenly was a mystery, and yet the Jedi Knight showed absolutely no sign of surprise. "Indeed they are," He said quietly. "What are they?"

"They are Kasps, or 'shiny death' in the Daals' tongue," The voice continued. "And they are aptly named, for if one of them bites you, you shall be reduced to a gibbering moron within an hour and dead within two. Not many people have seen them and survived – the ones which have usually slaughter them for their hides."

"And why have you not been killed by these Kasps?" Qui-Gon inquired lightly. "Unless you are also harvesting their skins?"

"Never," The voice continued, an icy note frosting his words. "And it does not take much to treat an animal with respect. Respect them and they shall extend the same courtesy to you, especially intelligent creatures like Kasps. They used to be the pets of royalty, you know."

"Really," Qui-Gon said, and then turned. Sitting before him, lounged on a rock, was a sleek, lithe looking man dressed very simply. A pair of dark leggings clung to long, slender legs, and a gray tunic held close to his muscled arms and chest. Several knives were belted to his waist, and a flexible bow was belted to his back, along with a long poniard strapped to his arm. A shock of golden hair fell into a pair of brilliant blue eyes, and a pale cowl covered the bottom of his face, masking him cleverly. Although his mouth was hidden, Qui-Gon detected a smirk in his voice.

"Master Jinn, I must admit I am impressed. You not only braved the poisonous Kasps, but also the frigid Daal destined to take the throne. Zeijkk is a horrible child, is she not?" The Mockingbird asked, almost cheerfully.

"I believe she has her flaws, as we all do," Qui-Gon said slowly. "And I do not believe she will be the best ruler for Daluba. But I am not here to decide the planet's politics – I am here to see that you do not attempt to harm the Princess in any way."

"I do not intend to harm the Princess," The Mockingbird chuckled derisively. "No, she's much too fun to keep around, what with her tantrums and her screaming and her fits of rage. No, I intend to stop the _wedding_ – because I do not believe she is the right ruler for Daluba either."

"And who is the right ruler?" Qui-Gon asked.

The Mockingbird wagged a finger. "Sly, Jinn, quite sly, but you won't be getting my endorsement yet. No, I allowed you to come this far because I want to send you scampering back to the Princess with a message."

"And?" Qui-Gon said evenly.

"Tell Zeijkk that she has a month to cancel the wedding and forget her usurping plans. Tell her that if she does not cancel her wedding, I shall ensure that everyone she holds dear to her shall die, slowly and painfully. I will not see an ally of mine shackled to that silver-eyed harlot in matrimony – and I will not see him disregarded the instant she is in power. Tell Zeijkk that if she goes through with this wedding, I shall be waging war on Daluba – and I am a terrible man to have as an enemy, Master Jinn."

"I do not doubt that," Qui-Gon murmured quietly. "I shall deliver your message, Mockingbird."

The Mockingbird bared his teeth in a quick, fierce grimace, despite it being hidden under his cowl. "Oh, and by the way – your Padawan is terrible at interrogation. He wields a wooden staff far better than his questions."

"His training is still underway," Qui-Gon pointed out, smiling in spite of himself. For some reason, he did not feel threatened by the Mockingbird. There was no intent to hurt, despite his harmful words. "And he has much to learn, despite his eagerness."

"Mm," The Mockingbird muttered. "Oh, and Jinn?" He called. "Keep an eye on Guardian Walker – she's not who you think she is."

With a puff of smoke, he vanished before Qui-Gon's very eyes.

* * *

><p>"Guardian Walker, I believe we got off to the wrong start."<p>

It was almost _impossible_ not to like him. But Ana managed it anyway – it happened to be a talent of hers. He was cute, however, with those unruly spikes sticking up in all directions, big blue eyes so brimming with innocence and fragile destiny. The Padawan robes fitted him snugly, as if he were teetering on the cusp of a growth spurt, and judging by the way he had been packing it away during Evening Meal, he was about to shoot up another five inches. "Guardian Walker, I would really like to talk about my Master," He continued, big eyes wide and earnest. "The two of you know each other, I can sense it."

Ana tossed her digi-pad aside and looked up at him irritably, forest green eyes dark and her lips twisted in a scowl. "You are cursedly curious, aren't you?"

A quick flash of a smile. "It has been known as a fault of mine, Guardian."

"It is none of your business, Padawan, whether or not I knew your Master in a previous life," Ana snapped. "If you do not believe what I am saying, then you evidently need more training."

Obi-Wan seemed unperturbed by the insult, and instead frowned slightly. "Guardian, were you trained as a Jedi?"

_Damn_, her reflexes were getting slow. Just a momentary flicker away from his eyes, a little drop in her voice in her denial. He knew she was lying. "No. I saw no reason to be trained."

She felt his Force suggestion layer his words, felt the probe against her emotions. "Are you sure, Guardian Walker?"

"Oh, let me think," Ana began rudely. "Where was I for the first twenty years of my life? In a temple? I don't think so. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tend to my charge." She growled, and swept off. Obi-Wan watched her go, his blue eyes bright and half-lidded as he thought. Oh, she was a _terrible_ liar. Truly terrible. He sat down on the thick, plush divan she had been lying on, and rubbed the bridge of his nose. His Master had not contacted him since he had left, and he had been watching the comlink carefully, making sure he did not miss the flashing red light. It worried him when his Master took off on his own like this – a sensible Jedi would have stayed near the Princess at all times, making sure of her protection. But Master Jinn just bullied his way right into the thick of things. How brave, Obi-Wan thought admiringly. Very, very brave.

The comlink flashed. With his eerie Jedi reflexes, Obi-Wan pounced on it.

"Master?" He asked, pressing on the receive button.

"Ah, Padawan, excellent," Qui-Gon's deep voice crackled over the comlink. "Have you heard any new information about the Mockingbird?"

"He once kidnapped a young boy by the name of Aja," Obi-Wan reported quickly. "Although it seems as though Aja is a friend of this Mockingbird, to tell the truth. He insists that the Mockingbird isn't going to harm the Princess, just plans to stop the wedding. And Her Highness isn't disturbed, she believes that the Mockingbird is a coward."

"He is no coward," Qui-Gon said grimly. "He threatened any person close to her if she goes through with the wedding. I also believe he is an ally with the Princess's betrothed. And he has an inside informant in the palace."

Obi-Wan mulled this over for a moment, and then answered. "What does he look like, Master?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Blonde, slightly built, tall, a medium sized scar on his left wrist, carries himself with great pride. He has a cultured tone about his voice, elegant and careful – he might have been born royalty. And he has a taste for the theatrical – if this entire thing turns out to be a ploy for attention, I shall not be surprised."

"I think it's more than that, Master," Obi-Wan said. "If he is threatening her family and friends, I believe he is quite serious."

"And I as well," Qui-Gon said slowly. After a moment, he said, "Obi-Wan, did you speak with the Princess's Guardian today?"

"Guardian Walker? Yes, I did. Was I not supposed to?" Obi-Wan asked, wincing a little. Technically, he hadn't been specifically _forbidden_, but he hadn't been told to interrogate her either. And he wasn't asking her questions about the Mockingbird, just personal questions. His Master might not be too pleased about that.

"Keep an eye on her," Qui-Gon said quietly. "Until I return. There is something we need to speak about – the three of us."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Wow, I'm tired. Exhausted, actually. I had a rough draft of this chapter which was waaaay better, but my idiot roommate deleted it accidentally, so I had to write this whole thing in like half an hour. Please excuse any typos. Oh, and guess what? Syrtis is working on more fanart! So there shall be more coming up! Yay! _

_Questions: What will Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, and Ana talk about? Will their differences ever be resolved? Is the Mockingbird doing this as an attention stunt, or is he serious?_


	6. Chapter 6: Stars Bear Witness

The coughing sputter of the speeder abruptly died as Qui-Gon pulled smoothly into the port. It was a beautiful night, although artificial – the stars were glittering, jeweled holograms projected from the ground, and the silky swirls of clouds were illusions. The real stars were far too dim to be seen properly. He walked up the steps to the palace, nodding once at the guards, and pressed his palm against the hand scanner. When he was safely inside, he threw back his hood and blinked hard, holding firmly onto the Force to keep himself awake. It had been a long, hard, jolting ride back to the palace, and he was exhausted from trying to figure out what was going on with Princess Zeijkk and the Mockingbird. Not to mention he was weary from keeping his mind off of Ana, trying hard not to think about her new name, her changed appearance, or her weak connection to the Force. He had a relatively simplistic mission which was growing more and more complicated by the second, and the last thing he needed were unnecessary emotions tangling his thoughts.

"Master?"

Obi-Wan was waiting for him in their chambers, dressed in his sleep tunic, and sitting cross legged on one of the plush chaises. Evidently he had been meditating, for he seemed languidly calm and his bright eyes were relaxed and easy. Qui-Gon shrugged off his outer cloak, hanging it carefully over a hook by the door, and unbuckled his lightsaber. He took a moment to lay it respectfully on the table, making a mental note of where it was, and then sat down on the bed to unlace his boots. "We are in the midst of a very deep conspiracy, Padawan," Qui-Gon said hoarsely, kicking off his boots. "There are old hurts and new secrets here, on Daluba, which we can't even begin to understand."

"Master, who is Ana?" Obi-Wan asked determinedly, looking straight at him. "You said we would speak to her, and I was wondering who she is. She knows you, I am certain of it, and she is connected to the Force, but barely. I cannot sense her emotions properly, but I know she is lying when she says she doesn't know you."

Qui-Gon looked wearily at Obi-Wan, and then sighed, bowing his head. There was a long pause while he collected his thoughts, trying to figure out how to answer his Padawan. "Firstly, I must apologize to you for keeping it a secret," He said quietly. "I consider it a deep hurt in my past, one I wish dearly to forget, but that does not excuse me. I treated you very disrespectfully by keeping this hidden." He paused again, interlacing his fingers and looking squarely at his Padawan. Telling the truth meant eye contact, no matter what. "La'Ana was my Padawan," He said softly. "She was the one before you. And before her was Xanatos, the Padawan who betrayed me." He stopped, swallowing.

"I was to train her for one year, just to help her adapt to the death of her Master. I had recently lost Xanatos at that time, and she had just lost her Master, Wathearu. We were a perfect match, or so Yoda thought." Qui-Gon continued, and then rubbed his temples. "It was difficult, at first," He admitted. "Neither of us wanted to trust one another, and we fought bitterly, at times. But, eventually, we were given a mission. A 'routine' mission, just like this one. The mission went wrong, and La'Ana was captured by my former Padawan, Xanatos. We fought, and I won the battle, but Ana was wounded badly. I brought her back to the Temple for healing, and it was then that we discovered her restricted access to the Force. She felt as though she would be useless as a Padawan or a Knight, so she left."

"But that isn't true," Obi-Wan objected. "There are plenty of Knights who deal with Force-related injuries. She could have become a Healer, or –"

"She left because we were in love."

There was a long, thick silence which settled heavily over both of them. Qui-Gon dropped his head to his hands. "She left because she didn't wish to damage my reputation any more than it already was." He swallowed the hard block in his throat, and looked tiredly at the wall. "I do not expect you to understand fully, Padawan, but I do ask for your forgiveness in not telling you."

Obi-Wan remained quiet, still looking at Qui-Gon. "Are you still in love?" He asked bluntly.

_Kriff, yes_, Qui-Gon thought to himself. Out loud, he said abruptly, "I need to speak with Ana. Go to sleep, Obi-Wan."

When the door hissed shut, Obi-Wan set his teeth and tried to stop the sheet of anger which smacked him in the heart. He had gotten so close! His Master had been truly opening up to him, and then he had to go ruin it. Obi-Wan clenched his fists and took a deep, quivering breath – This was no way for a Jedi Padawan to behave. He needed to collect himself. Qui-Gon would tell him the truth when he was ready, and until then, Obi-Wan shouldn't push. But his natural curiosity kept eating at him; Why had Qui-Gon been so upset over the failure of Xanatos? Was he still in love with Ana? How had he fallen in love, anyway? It was strictly forbidden by the Code. His Master didn't follow orders all the time, but surely, _surely_, he wouldn't disobey the code like that, so blatantly.

His mind still continued to put Qui-Gon on a pedestal, despite what was glaring him in the face.

* * *

><p>The terrace was soulless and empty during this time of the night – silent as the stars above them. In the center was a still, calm pool, a flat silver square marred only by a few dark lily pads around the edges. The sleek white marble, marked here and there with yellow veins, was slippery beneath Ana's bare feet and bled the warmth from her legs. Still, it was a beautiful night, with enough crystalline silence to hurt the ears. There was a surreal, stretched effect to everything, as if part of her kept trying to wake up and push back the covers to start a new day.<p>

"You do realize it's the middle of the night, correct?" Ana snapped bad-temperedly, folding her arms tightly. It was cool and breezy outside on the terrace, and she wondered why she had even opened the door. _Because,_ her mind told her in that annoying fashion,_ You can't resist him when he's looking at you like that. Not when he's got those big blue eyes piercing your soul. _She shook herself and wrapped her robe a little tighter around herself. She had, of course, been sleeping – beneath her sheer robe, she wore only a sleeping tunic, and her long hair was loose and tousled around her shoulders. She looked a fright, she knew, but she didn't want to keep him waiting. At first, when she heard the soft, discreet knock on the door, she had bounded to Zeijkk's door, ready to defend her princess. The moment she saw who it was, however, she slid down the wall and waited, as if he would go away. And then he said her name. Kriff, when he said her _name_, she would do  
>anything. She would jump off a cliff, if he just said her name.<p>

Qui-Gon swallowed hard and tried to focus on the task he had at hand. There was no time to appreciate the slender, feminine form in front of him – _especially_ since it was Ana's. It was one thing to admire a beautiful woman; it was quite another thing entirely to admire the form of a beautiful woman he happened to be in love with. If not in love, than at least have passionate feelings about. He closed his eyes briefly, summoning the legendary Jedi control all Knights have, and when he opened them, he was much more at peace. Still, the artificial moonlight was casting silver shadows everywhere, highlighting the light curve of Ana's hips, the rounded length of her shoulders, her rosebud lips pressed tightly together against the chill breeze. "I do realize it's late," He began quietly, ensuring no wandering guards would hear. "But I have a plan, and I need your help."

"And why would you need me?" Ana asked, turning and glowering at him. Not directly at him – not many people could glare directly into those smoky blue eyes and not soften inside. And she didn't want to be soft, she wanted to be strong. She wanted to show Qui-Gon just how strong she was, without the Code, without the Order – but especially, without him.

"Because I need three Jedi," Qui-Gon continued, unperturbed.

"Listen, Qui-Gon," Ana snapped, losing her fragile self-control and getting right into his face. She was so short it hardly made a difference, except to allow their body heat to mingle, but she stared angrily at his nose. She didn't dare look at his eyes. "I am not a Jedi, do you understand? Not a Knight, not a Padawan, nothing. I am a normal, relatively healthy Guardian who has to protect her Charge during a particularly stressful time in her life."

"You are a woman with a connection to the Force," Qui-Gon reminded her quietly. "Whether you wish it or not, Ana, you have midi-chlorians in your bloodstream, and they are reacting to the Force even now. Whether or not you can control your connection to the Force is another thing entirely, but you are still a Jedi. You received twenty years of Jedi training, and you lived in the Temple for most of your life. Even now, you still adopt a manner of the Jedi. Being a Jedi is not just training, it's not just a religion – it's a way of life. It defines a person."

"It didn't define me, it destroyed me!" Ana barked at him, and actually seized handfuls of his robe, dragging him slightly downwards and herself slightly upwards. Now she looked him in the eye – she was angry enough to glower at him. "You don't know how hard it was, me leaving! I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't even breathe for years! All the restrictions, all the barriers – I could never have a friend! All of those years, alone, trying to figure out a world and a life I had no idea about!" She was breathing hard, now, and she released him, stepping back. "I am no Jedi, Qui-Gon."

"You are my apprentice," Qui-Gon rumbled, stepping aggressively forward. "I trained you, held you, taught you, _loved_ you. Yes, Ana, I did. I still do." His voice, raw with thick emotion, was deeper and rougher than usual. "You are not _just a _Padawan. You're _my_ Padawan. And I need your help with this plan."

There was a long moment of silence, which went unbroken by the two of them. Ana looked away first, and then went slowly over to the pool. His aggression hit her hard – had he just admitted he still loved her? The heat rushed to her cheeks, and she sat down on the edge of the pool. Wordlessly, she slipped off her sleeping robe and waded into the cold water. Nearly instantly, goose bumps broke out across her skin, but she continued onwards until she was in the center. It was a relatively shallow pool, and it only went up to her knees, but she dropped down and floated, staring up at the artificial sky. Her black hair spilled around her, a life of its own in the water, and her sleeping tunic billowed around her thighs. "All right," She said softly. "Tell me the plan."

His control snapped in a split second when she righted herself and he got a glimpse of the goddess she was. She truly looked like some other-worldly being – the moon lighting her in bold silver, shadows and darkness gilding her edges, the water dripping off her and pattering the surface of the pool. The sleeping tunic clung to every curve, every inch of skin, and even though she had her back to him, he could see what a woman she had become.

She turned when she heard the soft rustle of his outer tunic, and her heart stopped when he entered the water, kneeling in front of her. "I'll tell you tomorrow," He whispered, and stroked her cheek with one hand.

The moon and the stars were a silent witness to the love which they admitted to one another, and the sky watched lovingly as they pledged themselves to one another. Ana to Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon to Ana. Two halves became whole, a circle knitting seamlessly back together. Master and Padawan. Friend and companion. Lover and fighter. Warrior and wildcat. Diplomat and instigator. Yin and Yang.

However, the moon and the stars weren't the only witness. A girl with a cloud of blonde hair watched with an empty, unsettling look in her eyes, but a smirk on her face, as she studied her Guardian. And then she whispered one word into the fabric of the night:

_"Perfect."_

* * *

><p><em>AN: I would love some feedback! I'm really sorry this took so long – I've been writing other things, and generally being a lazy bum, I know. But I hope this makes up for it. XDD Please, please, please, leave a review and tell me what you think! _


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